"Mike Moscoe - The Price of Peace" - читать интересную книгу автора (Moscoe Mike)

"Flip ship!" Umboto snapped. The Patton quickly started rotating along its central axis. Now,
instead of her vulnerable engines, her ice-armored nose faced hostile fire.
"Zig down," she snapped as soon at that maneuver was done.
In a blink, the Patton dropped out from underneath Umboto. As the helmswoman initiated
the defensive spin along the ship's long axis, the captain was slammed into her seat. That
was planned. Then the stern plunged and the bow shot up. That wasn't. The Patton took off
on her own, cartwheel-, ing through space. The ragged broadside from the self-proven
pirate cut through where the Patton had beenтАФalmost.
One ray sliced into ice armor. The Patton lurched; pumps whined as they redistributed
reaction mass to balance the spinning ship. Umboto held her breath. Was the armor thick
enough, the spin fast enough to keep the pirate laser from burning through? The pumps cut
off as suddenly as they had started. The pirate had done his best. Now it was her turn.
"Hold fire, Guns, hold fire. Helm, steady as she goes."
"Going to manual," the young helmswoman answered. "Damn jets," she muttered as her
hands twisted both joysticks at her station. Scores of attitudinal jets, normally balanced by
delicate computer modeling, responded to her deft coaxing. After wild seconds, the Patton
held steady, pitch controlled. "I think I can hold her here for a few seconds, Captain."
"Guns, we got them ranged."
"Did before that last jig, skipper."
"Main battery, fire salvo, pattern C," Umboto ordered. Even with laser and radar range
finders, at fifteen thousand
8 тАв Mike Moscoe
kilometers there was plenty of wiggle room for a five-hundred-meter-long ship. Guns and
Umboto had worked out an approach to that problem. Each gun aimed for a slightly different
section of space, and zigzagged through it for the three seconds of the salvo. With luck, one
gun would find the target, and the next salvo would center around that hit. Hopefully, the
attitudinal problem hadn't destroyed her carefully laid plans.
The lights dimmed as five 6-inch lasers reached for the threat. In empty space, nothing
colored the laser light; it passed invisible to the naked eye. Umboto concentrated on her
battle screens. Rays ranged around the target, but there was no sign of a hit. Damn!
The Patron's spin brought two new guns to bear. Using the misses, Guns modified their
salvo pattern. Damn, Umboto missed the two broken guns. But wish in one hand and spit in
the other ... see which one you get the most out of.
The target turned red as a single gun nipped it just as the salvo ended.
"Got a piece of 'em," Guns shouted with glee.
The Patton lurched. "Sorry, ma'am," the helmswoman answered before her captain said
anything.
"Do your best," Umboto said, hoping Gun's fire solution hadn"t been hashed again. "XO, tell
me something nice."
"Damage control reports they've got attitudinal control back. Helm, go to backup."
"Yes, sir." There was a pause while the Patton did nothing . . . exactly the way it was
supposed to. The XO and Umboto breathed a sigh of relief at the same moment. And
Umboto went back to her main problem. One damaged pirate.
"Sensors, talk to me."
"Target is putting on spin. Only a few RPMs, though. Ranging us constantly." That told
Umboto the bastard knew how to fight his ship, but probably didn't trust his crew and
equipment to a standard battle stations twenty RPMтАФand was still very much spoiling for a
fight.
"Sensors, time since last enemy salvo?"
THE PRICE OF PEACE тАв 9